


Out of it

by goldtitaniumman



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers - Ambiguous Fandom
Genre: AU, Bartender AU, Ex-soldier!Steve, Fluff, Flying Cars, Friendship, Honeymoon, Humor, M/M, Tony helps him sleep, starting a riot
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-03-23
Updated: 2014-04-26
Packaged: 2018-01-16 18:26:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 4,184
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1357462
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/goldtitaniumman/pseuds/goldtitaniumman
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Chapter 1: What if I...<br/>Tony is skeptical about the existence of unconditional love so he tests Steve’s commitment with a game of ‘what if.'</p>
<p>Chapter 2: Sleeping Beauty<br/>Tony sleeps with strangers. Steve employs his services.</p>
<p>Chapter 3: Old, New, battered and Blue<br/>Building friendships by destroying cities.</p>
<p>Chapter 4: So Fly<br/>Tony builds a flying car.</p>
<p>Chapter 5: New Tony<br/>Tony goes from one extreme to the other.</p>
<p>Several unrelated (mostly unfinished) stories. I'll be posting a new installment every weekend and adjusting the tags and ratings accordingly.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. What if I...

**Author's Note:**

> My amazing beta inukagome15. She's great, you should check her out. [ tumblr](http://inukagome15.tumblr.com/) [ ao3](http://archiveofourown.org/users/inukagome15)

Steve sighed tiredly, eyes slipping closed at the feel of an open mouth pressed gently to the centre of his chest. That same mouth then moved to nip his collar bone, bite his neck, nibble his chin... Eventually he stopped tracking the scattered movements altogether, resigning himself to simply enjoying each new sensation coupled with the warmth radiating from Tony's body above him.

The pair was laying together in bed, slowly coming down from the high of several successive orgasms. The sex wasn't particularly different from the times they'd done it before the wedding, but seeing the gold band around the other man's finger somehow made everything feel permanent and more intense because of it.

Steve's breath hitched slightly when Tony's hot breath blew over his ear. Just a few seconds ago he had been certain  that his body would be unable to do anything for a long time, but the quick spike of arousal made him think otherwise. His brain was so fogged with thoughts of possibilities that it took him a long time to realise that those puffs of air were actually spoken words. "Sorry, I missed all of that. Mind repeating?"

Tony huffed, amused. "I said, what if I called your mother a whore?" He challenged offhandedly before he returned to colouring his husband's body with too-quickly fading bruises, the question taking on the familiar structure of the silly game he liked to play.

Steve hummed, more his half-tired way of acknowledging the heightened level of creativity than anything else. Months ago such an insane question would have garnered some sort of reaction. Now though, he could say without a doubt that this was not, as ridiculously as it sounded, the most scandalizing proposition he’d heard from Tony.

“And why exactly would you be calling my Ma a whore?” he asked, eyes blinking open slightly to peer down at Tony as he worked at a spot below Steve's left pectoral. Honestly, he was certain that the reason wouldn’t matter, but he'd found that Tony always kicked up a fuss if he answered instinctively without asking at least one follow-up question.

“We were fighting or something and I just yell it. I dunno, roll with it," Tony murmured, sparing a bright, mischievous glance up at Steve.

Steve paused, trying to make it seem s as if he was considering the question in light of the new evidence, though he was really just internally debating the merits of getting up to shower over lazing around all day. “Oh well, 's na'so bad,” he replied finally around a yawn. The thick curtains on the other side of the room hid the bright Hawaiian sun from view but still warmed the room to the perfect temperature for idleness. Nap first, shower later.

Tony sat up unexpectedly, weight shifting to rest on both of Steve's thighs, his head tilting and brows knitting in the same way they did when he encountered a particularly difficult engineering problem. “I just called your mother a whore and you’re totally fine with that?”

“First of all..." Steve started, gently guiding the genius's lips back down to their previous position with a hand in his untamed hair. The action earned him a small laugh and a playful slap on the arm, but ultimately did get Tony back on task. "You never actually called her that. This is just a hypothetical situation you made up in that crazy brain of yours."

"'M not crazy." Muttered against Steve’s sternum, Tony's token defence of his sanity was pointedly ignored.

“Secondly, if we ever did get into a fight that was bad enough for you to just toss insults at me willy-nilly, then we can assume I'd give as good as I got. So, once we cooled off, we'd both apologize and everything’d be fine.

“So to answer your question, yes, Tony, I’d still love you even if you called my Ma a whore. Which you’d absolutely never do since my mother was a saint,” he added, giving his husband's bare ass a playful pinch.

Tony whined, wiggling his hips in a way that definitely wouldn't deter Steve's actions. “You’re a weirdo,” he huffed. “Also, no one says ‘willy-nilly,’ old man.”

Steve purposefully chose not to pursue the familiar line about his age, settling instead on silently rolling his eyes and wrapping his arms tightly around Tony's waist until he felt him give in and relax in a comfortable position against Steve's broad chest.

With Tony no longer adding to his masterpiece of coloured bruises, Steve felt the sparks of arousal ebb and was finally able to start giving into the pull of sleep.

After a long stretch of deep, quiet breathing and no movement from either party- just when Steve had started to believe that Tony had actually fallen asleep- Tony spoke up with renewed energy. “Oh, I know! What if I-”

“Annnnd, I’m done!” Steve announced, unceremoniously rolling Tony off of him and onto the bed. He ignored the surprised squawk as he made his way over to the bathroom without so much as a glance backwards.

“Ha!” Tony cried triumphantly from the tangled mess of sheets. “I knew I'd wear you down!”

“I still love you, you idiot,” Steve called as he closed the door behind him, making sure to lock it, too, for good measure. Love did not, as he was slowly learning, negate the need for alone time.

“Yeah, yeah, so you keep saying,” Tony groused, a cheerful note colouring his words.

Steve grinned at the clear sound of a smile in the other man’s voice. He knew he was slowly chipping away at Tony’s armour. It was only a matter of time before the truth sunk in.

They’d get there eventually. They had the rest of their lives after all.


	2. Sleeping Beauty

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For some strange reason inukagome15 has stuck around as my beta. She writes things amazing thing that you should check out. Her [ tumblr](http://inukagome15.tumblr.com/) and [ ao3](http://archiveofourown.org/users/inukagome15)

"People do that for a living!?" Steve asked, dumbfounded, as he stared down at the discreet black business card. The words ‘Sleeping Beauty’ were written in fancy red lettering in the center of the card above a number, both surrounded by a thin gold border.

"Yes," Peggy answered conversationally, as though they weren't discussing prostitution. "And before you jump on your soap box, it is not prostitution. You pay them to sleep beside you. No sex. No funny business. Just a companion to cuddle with at night; which you, by the way, desperately need."

"No," he said simply, sliding the card back across the office desk towards his case worker. It wasn't even up for debate. He was  not a child that needed  someone in his bed to chase away the monsters.

Peggy shook her head, eyes softening as she leaned forward to take Steve's hand. "You said yourself that things have been hard since you've come back home. You barely sleep because of the nightmares, and even when you're awake you can't relax because you fear having another panic attack-"

Steve pulled back his hand, slumping into his chair with a huff. "Jeez, Peg, I don't need a rundown of everything that's wrong with me."

Peggy ignored his interruption, continuing, "-and I know this can help." She slid the card back across the desk. "I’ve worked with enough soldiers like you to be sure of that. Just take the number and at least consider it, okay?"

Steve eventually  took the offered item but avoided her eyes, instead staring down at his own hands as he turned the business card around. "Did those people call- the other soldiers, the ones like me?"

"Not many, no," she sighed sadly, "but they should have."

 

Steve sat on his couch, leg bouncing nervously before he once again stood to check the state of his room. It was just as pristine as when he'd checked five minutes ago.

Tonight the ‘sleep aid’ -the title given to him by the receptionist on the phone when he’d called to book an appointment- would be coming, and to say that Steve was nervous would be an understatement.

He paced around his apartment, cleaning everything and slowly working up a storm in his mind. He snorted to himself; this was supposed to calm him, not make his anxiety worse.

Just as he was about to call and cancel the appointment, the doorbell rang.

With a fortifying breath, he made his way to the other end of the apartment and slowly opened the door.

"Hey," the man on the other end greeted him, walking in without an invitation, "I'm Tony and I'll be sleeping with you tonight."

Steve blushed bright red and quickly shut the door, hoping desperately that his neighbours hadn’t overheard.

"I'm Steve- Rogers- Steve Rogers," he replied awkwardly, extending his right hand.

Tony raised a skeptical eyebrow at the gesture. "I'm going to sleep with you, not sell you insurance. How 'bout we watch some TV and hang out before we go to bed. Maybe that'll help you loosen up, soldier boy."

Steve dropped his hand to his side. "I don't have a television.”

"You're kidding, right? Who doesn't have a TV?"

"Me?"

Tony sighed heavily. "Okay, c'mon," he announced, pulling Steve over to the couch, "we'll watch Netflix on my phone."

"What's Netflix?"

"Oh good god, man! Where have you been frozen for the last decade?"

 

It was almost three hours of  Queer Eye for the Straight Guy later that Steve felt himself dozing off. Another hour and he was slumped against Tony's shoulder, enjoying the gentle hand running through his hair.

"C'mon, big guy, let's get you to bed."

Too tired to complain or even feel nervous, Steve followed Tony into his bedroom and allowed himself to be manhandled into position under the covers. He was placed as the little spoon, a position he hadn't been in since he was younger and Bucky would wrap himself around Steve's body like armour.

Now this stranger was his armour, he thought sleepily. It wasn’t the same, but it wasn't bad either.

 

When Steve woke up, he was first aware of someone’s  warm breath blowing softly on the back of his neck. He almost panicked before he remembered the night before.

Once the initial shock subsided, Steve was able to focus on how good he felt. Well rested, relaxed- all states that he’d thought his body would never achieve again.

"Afternoon, sleeping beauty."

The rough voice caught him by surprise, but again he recovered quickly. "I thought you were supposed to be the sleeping beauty?"

Tony chuckled, pulling Steve closer to his chest to whisper in his ear. "Are you hitting on me, Rogers?"

"I-what-no-"

"That was a joke, calm down, sweetheart."

"Oh, yeah. Sorry." Tony didn't answer, but Steve felt a smile pressed to his shoulder. "Thank you," he said after awhile. He wasn’t sure if thanking someone for sleeping with you was appropriate, but it felt right at  the moment.

"For the dumb joke?"

"Uh, no. I meant for the sleeping...thing."

Tony laughed again, a sound that Steve could easily see himself getting used to. "Anytime, Stevie."

And Steve believed him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I see a few of you have fallen for my trick and actually came to hang out with me on [ tumblr.](http://goldtitaniumman.tumblr.com/)  
> You should say hi!  
> Also, the original prompt for this was from this [ tumblr.](http://writeworld.tumblr.com/)  
> 


	3. Old, New, Broken and Blue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a short one.

"At least something good came out of it..." When the man cuffed to the bench beside him snorted in disbelief, Steve continued speaking, happy for a point of focus that wasn't the judging eyes of the police officers as theywalked by them. "We're not at each others throats anymore, that has to count for something, right?"

Tony rolled his eyes, wincing slightly when the motion aggravated the darkening bruise on his left cheek. "We started a riot that shut down like four city blocks. You really think things worked out for the best?"

Steve briefly reviewed their day in his head. They may have caused a small riot, some property damage, maybe some civil unrest, but at most this day only added a few more smudges to his already spotty public record, well worth it if it helped improve his relationship with Tony. "I think they did," he answered honestly.

Tony huffed, shakinghis head. "You're not at all what I thought you'd be, Rogers."

Steve chose to interpret that positively.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [ Come hang with me on tumblr!](http://goldtitaniumman.tumblr.com/)


	4. So Fly

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony makes a flying car.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Beta: inukagome15 [ tumblr](http://inukagome15.tumblr.com/) [ ao3](http://archiveofourown.org/users/inukagome15)  
> Me on [ tumblr.](http://goldtitaniumman.tumblr.com/)  
> 

"So you’re really gonna make it happen?” Steve asks, something akin to awe in his voice. He's sitting in his usual spot in the workshop directly across from Tony to watch his friend work on it. 

Tony shrugs. “It's theoretically possible - easy, really,” he responds with faux casualness, as though Steve’s reaction isn’t the entire reason for his interest in this silly project. “The problem is with the application, y’know? Even if I made a flying car, it’s not like it could be flown on public roads.”

It’s a clear, practical assessment of the facts, and Steve shows no sign of caring about any of it. “Yeah, but you can make a car fly! It’s amazing- you’re amazing!" He reaches across the workbench and gives Tony’s shoulder a lingering squeeze before settling back down in his seat, continuing to watch with almost unblinking attention as Tony slowly manipulates the glowing projections into component parts that are already taking the shape of a hovering car.

Tony tries his best to suppress a preening grin.

 

"Holy crap!" Steve gasps as he enters the workshop.

Tony looks over his shoulder, brows knitting in confusion . "How the hell'd you get here so fast?" From the time he'd had JARVIS call Steve down, to the moment he passed through the workshop doors, only about 90 seconds had passed. And although Tony hasn't actually been upstairs in over a week now -ever since he kicked Steve out in order to put the finishing touches on the car- he's still fairly certain that that sort of time frame is impossible.

Steve waves off the question. "I took the stairs," he responds distractedly, ignoring the fact that his answer only raises more questions. He bounces over to stand at his friend's side with childlike glee, pointing to the dingy sheet that is covering what looks like the shape of a car. "That's it, right? It’s all done?"

Seeing Steve's level of excitement almost makes Tony feel bad about dragging the design process way past the few weeks that were actually needed. But who could really blame him when it meant having Steve spend almost every second of the day for the last two months alone with him? "Yup, this is it. All done," he says, earning a pleased grin.

"Can I see it now? Can it fly-I mean obviously it can fly, it’s flying right now. Can I fly it?"

"Whoa there, big guy, breathe," Tony coaxes, chuckling as he rests a calming hand on Steve's broad shoulder.

Steve takes a deep breath before gripping Tony's arm, bringing them slightly closer together. "I've told you how amazing you are, right?" It was said as earnest as ever.

Tony coughs awkwardly and takes a step back, hand dropping limply to his side. Steve may not have noticed his Mount Everest-sized crush as of yet, but if he went and did something stupid like blush at the feel a simple touch, there's no way that would go unnoticed. He's way too damn old for this shit. "Only every day for the last six months, yeah."

"Well, you never respond so I thought maybe your hearing was going. I've been told that's common for people your age," Steve jokes. Because apparently that's a thing they do now.

Tony laughs, thankful for the broken tension. "Those in glass houses shouldn't throw stones, Mr. I'm-so-old-I-use-words-like-'nifty'-un-ironically."

Steve rolls his eyes. "You gonna keep yappin', or are you gonna show me that nifty flying car of yours?"

"Keep your pants on, grandpa." Or don't, that's fine too. Tony walks the short distance to the covered vehicle and yanks off the tarp with flourish. "Ta-da!"

There's the almost audible sound Steve's jaw dropping followed by complete silence while Steve takes in the sleek red, white, and blue car.

"JARVIS suggested the paint colours," Tony lies, fiddling with the sheet still in his hand. "Plus, I figured since I could already fly that you would get more use out of-"

Tony's ramble is cut off when Steve once again grabs him, but this time he doesn't stop when they're a foot apart, or even inches. The pair of lips pressed to his are warm, insistent, and completely unexpected.

Steve doesn't linger, not for too long, he just plants the unexpected kiss and pulls away.

When it seems clear that no explanation is forthcoming, Tony tries to finds his voice. "Is that some sort of 40's thank you?" he croaks. "Cause I think I should let you know that we don't really do that now."

Steve shakes his head, exasperated and fond. "No, Tony, it wasn't a '40's thank you.' Back then guys didn't just go around kissing other guys."

"So that was-"

"Yes, Tony."

"And you-"

"Yes, Tony."

"OK...cool- nifty. You wanna take the car for a spin?"  
"Sure, Tony."


	5. New Tony

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My beta inukagome15 [ tumblr](http://inukagome15.tumblr.com/) [ ao3](http://archiveofourown.org/users/inukagome15)

“Sprite, please,” Tony ordered, casually taking a seat at the bar. At least he hoped he appeared casual despite his building nervousness. He really wanted to do this right.  

After his breakup with Pepper, Tony had been forced to take a much needed look at his life. That was how, for the first time, it dawned on him that he was almost forty and had nothing in his personal life to show for it. Yeah, in his business life he was a billionaire, and he was a philanthropist in his public one, but that didn’t translate to being able to maintain a significant relationship. In fact, his three year stint with Pepper was the  only noteworthy relationship he'd ever had. 

So, he made a resolution to change that: starting from this day forth, Anthony Edward Stark was a new man - New Tony, if you will.  A man who drank lightly, didn’t party, and only looked for long, sustainable relationships. No more trendy clubs or flying out to parties in France; no more childishness. He was going to be an adult if it killed him.

The first test of his resolve came when the bartender approached with his drink. This guy was young, gorgeous, blond;  exactly Old Tony’s type. New Tony on the other hand, recognised that this child -because he was a child compared to Tony's own age- was probably in his early twenties, and judging from the fact that he was a bartender, probably didn’t have his life in order. 

No, New Tony needed a banker or a teacher, or someone with a similarly boring, stable job. 

So, accepting his drink, Tony fought the urge to add a flirtatious wink and instead just gave a polite nod and a tip of his glass as he turned to survey the other patrons. 

He quickly determined that Old Tony would have hated this bar. Not only was it close enough to the business center of New York to attract an older clientele, but instead of the tight clothes and exposed skin that were practically a given at his usual hangouts, most of the people here were in suits having what seemed to be intellectually stimulating conversations. 

It was perfect. Exactly what he was looking for. He even came prepared- decked out in his dark blue suit, white button-up, and shined shoes. But of course he forewent the tie and left the first two buttons open to show that he was open to some fun. 

Taking a sip of his drink, Tony tried to look open and friendly, and within minutes a handsome man who looked to be in his thirties approached him.

This was it! The beginning of his new life!

****  
  
  


Four hours later found Tony in an almost empty bar with his elbows propped up on the counter and head in his hands.

Every single person that had approached him either knew who he was and tried to get him to buy something, or was so mind-numbingly boring that he had started doing math in his head just to escape.

Tony felt something nudge his arm. He looked up to see Blondie The Bartender offering him a drink. “I didn’t order that.”

“I know,” the guy said, placing the drink in front of Tony anyway. “You look like you could use it,” he added with a kind smile. 

“How do I know you didn’t poison it?” he grumbled, eyeing the amber liquid suspiciously.  

The blond shot him a flat look. “I don’t usually make a habit of murdering paying customers." 

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to offend you, that’s something Old Tony would say. ‘Lemme try again: thank you very much for the consolatory drink.”

The bartender chuckled lightly. “Old Tony?”

“Yeah, I’m Tony and I’m trying a new path. I’ve heard good things about this settling down business so I thought I’d give it a go, but since other me would never do that I... Oh god, I sound like a crazy person, don't I?"

The blond shrugged. “Just a tad, it’s okay, though; some of my best friends are crazy," he answered jokingly. "But seriously though, if you're looking to settle down this definitely isn't the place for you."

“What do you mean?” 

“Well first of all, most of the people that come in here are married and looking for an affair. And secondly, you seem like a normal human being -minus the split personality thing- whereas everyone in here lives with their heads up their butts.”

“Really?” Tony whined. “I suck at this! Sleeping with random bimbos is so much simpler.” How could he have been so off?

“I could give you some suggestions if you want? I know some other bars that might have someone you’re looking for.”

Tony considered it for a second before shrugging. It wasn’t like he could do any worse than this. "Sure, kid, you can help.”

“It’s Steve," he introduced himself, "and I’m not a kid,” he added defensively.

“Here’s the thing: a real adult would never be offended when called a kid. They would take it as a compliment. Therefore, you’re a kid.”

Steve rolled his eyes. "Whatever you say, Tony.”

Tony went on to explain to Steve the type of person he wanted. They had to be smart, funny, interesting, kind, willing to have a long term relationship, open to the idea of having at least one child, and passionate- he didn’t really care what they were passionate about, it was just the fire of passion that he found appealing. That wasn’t too picky, right? 

Steve listened to the list, scribbling on a napkin some suggestions for places that probably had that type of person. Along with a quick doodle of frustrated Tony pulling at his hair. Cute. 

Tony thanked him and left the bar feeling refreshed. He was sure that tomorrow night he would be meeting the love of his life.

****  
  
  


“How does this game even work?” Tony asked, glaring daggers at the TV behind the bar.

Steve sighed. This was the twenty-third time since their first meeting that Tony had come back from one of the suggested pick-up places and promptly begun to mope.

“Why is the field diamond-shaped? And why is there a dude standing behind the guy with the bat? That’s just unsafe ”

“Would you like me to change the channel to that weird science network you like?” Steve asked with a fond smile.

Sometime around the third month of Steve helping Tony on his foray into adulthood, they had apparently become friends. Tony even took Steve out to few different places since he insisted that Steve would be a great ‘wingman.’ He wasn't, but they still had a great time. Steve hadn’t felt this close to someone since Peggy. It was…nice.

“You know me so well.” Tony smiled brightly, “I should just date you,” he added jokingly.

Steve let the comment slide at first, rolling his eyes as he went to serve other customers, but as the night went on the thought took root in his head. 

****  
  


“Why haven’t you?” Steve asked when traffic at the bar slowed.  

Tony looked taken aback, drink paused at his lips. 

“I mean- I know that I’m not as great as the person you described-“

Tony cut him off with a dismissive wave. “Steve, you’re perfect, don’t sell yourself short.”

“So why not ask me out?”

Tony was silent for a moment. He had immediately dismissed Steve from the beginning because he looked so much like Old Tony’s type. But Steve wasn’t; he was committed and loyal and kind to a fault. He never would have fallen for Old Tony’s empty smile and false promises. 

Steve was looking for love. Whenever they'd sit together and share their dreams for the future he'd always talk about a house with a dog and two kids.

It wasn’t until now that Tony realised that since they shared the same dream, they should at least try to live it together.

Tony cleared his throat. “Steven Grant Rogers, would you like to go on a date with me then fall madly in love before getting married and spending the rest of our lives together?”

Steve rolled his eyes, a large smile on his face. "How 'bout we start with dinner first?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about not uploading last week.  
> [ me on tumblr](http://goldtitaniumman.tumblr.com/)


End file.
